


The Okona Crusher

by LaurelCanyon



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelCanyon/pseuds/LaurelCanyon
Summary: long after their sole meeting, Wesley looks back on what Captain Okona meant to him.(Wesley crushed hard but this story doesn't imply anything ever happened between them)
Relationships: Wesley Crusher/Thadiun Okona
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Okona Crusher

A Letter from Wesley Crusher to the Late Captain Okana

Do you remember me at all? Is there ever a time when you, somewhere out there chasing women or being chased, find your mind wandering not to all the breasts you've touched but the smile of a young man who you never even really knew? No, I'm sure you don't. You wouldn't. If you had wanted me to memorable to you, you would've made it so. I know you could've. Surely you must have known too.   


Surely, right? Surely you never gave me more than a smile because you didn't want to, not because you thought I was beyond your reach? You, who were confident with every person you ever met, surely it wasn't some little boy who suddenly made you doubt your courage and your skill?

I'll never know. I'll never know if I misread those glances. If it was all in my head. I do know I couldn't have been the only boy you ever met. The way you paraded through the Enterprise, casually sure that to know you was to love you. If in that short time you gained so many . . . fans, if that's the word . . . I have to imagine that was your whole life. Jetting from one caper to another like some hero out of a holonovel. A woman in every port. Where they all women?

I don't mean to sound so backward, but I kinda hope they were. Part of me would rather believe that you just weren't interested in guys, despite what I imagined, than that you considered and rejected me.

I remember the first time I saw you. You were repairing your wreck of a ship and couldn't even stop to look in the viewscreen. Your ass, bigger than life, filled the main bridge screen like a giant mural. No, it didn't turn me on. I've never been an ass man, and back then I wouldn't have known it even if I was. I was a golden kid, a prodigy. The first thought I had of you was that you must be some backward criminal, stuck in a primitive culture and most likely a primitive philosophy. I admit it, I was a snob. I had every advantage handed to me and I acted like I deserved it. There was the right way to be and then there were all the slobs who had nothing ot offer. Commander Riker, the first man I remember having a sustained crush on, was the ideal officer. Bold and strong and professional to a fault. At least, that's how I thought of him back then. I've realized now you and he really weren't that different. Huh, why do I always fall for the ladies man? That's probably something I'll never outgrow. But back then I didn't see Commander Riker as my idol because he was suave with women. I saw him as my idol because he was cool, calm, and never did anything wrong. I thought that was what I wanted.

And then you turned around.

I never could figure out if you dressed like an ocean pirate on purpose. Flowy sleeves and a vest, with a pony tail and unkempt hair. Your entire look seemed to be a statement against uniforms or decor. And yet it worked for you. I think you had to know what you were doing. You probably thought long and hard about every first impression, hoping it would get you into some pretty girl's bed. But it didn't come off staged or inauthentic. Your clothes, your hair, your thin half-hearted attempt at a beard, it all said "here I am. I'm glad to be me and I think you'll enjoy me too." 

My captain put you on mute and you just sat there, your eyes staring calmly and alert across the stars. My eyes stared back at yours, even though I'm sure I wasn't even visible to you. I couldn't look away. 

Our ship's counselor summed you up immediately: "mischievous, irreverent, and somewhat brazen." These were all things a budding ensign should disdain. These were things I always had disdained. I was mortified whenever I did anything that put me in a bad light in front of an authority. But like Counselor Troi, I could already see you lived for trouble. That stirred something in me, something I didn't expect.

I couldn't wait for you to come on board. I had seen you for mere seconds but I knew I needed to be closer to you. I had to align your ship with ours and while it was a normal procedure, it seemed like the hardest thing I had ever done. Everyone on the bridge was watching me and I felt like they knew what was going on inside me. When it was time to go meet you, I walked with my hands in front of my groin. Just in case.

I stood quietly in the transporter room trying to act calm. "Cool" as they used to say. I didn't expect anything other than to get a look at you.

And then you spoke to me. You did more than speak to me. You came right up and pretended to think I was a commander. You asked me my name. You didn't have to do that. No one would've noticed if you hadn't. You wanted to talk to me. Why you wanted to, I'll never know. I know what I imagine. I know what I hope. I reach out and shook your hand. I touched you and you touched me and I'll never forget it. We stared into each other's eyes. We smiled. I said my name and then you said my name.

"Nice to meet you, Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher."

Said it with a huge grin, like you were just as excited to meet me as I was to meet you. Was that just an act? Was that just how you were with people? If it was an act, why play it on me? If it was real . . . why was there never anything more?

And then you broke the handshake. I didn't break it. I would've held it forever. You dropped your hand and sauntered over to the transporter chief, a beautiful woman. And you told her so. You started laying on the compliments thick. Too thick.

"You have the majestic carriage and loveliness that could surely be traced back to the noblest families," you told her. What an over-the-top and generic line. But it worked. It worked because you could make anyone feel special. Anyone you choose. Why make me feel that way and then immediately move on to someone else? Did you want to throw me off? Did you want to throw off everyone else? Or did you catch yourself in the act of flirting with a seventeen year old and find yourself alarmed? Were you as surprised as me? Was the move to a woman an act of retreat, of returning to a comfort zone where you knew the rules?

All I knew is that I was beyond the moon. I didn't have any expectation of your undivided attention. I was giddy that you had seen me at all.

I followed you around like a puppy as much as I could while you were on board. You glanced at me often and we spoke and smiles, but we never had another moment. Not like the first one. It made me doubt myself. Doubt what happened. Doubt if it mattered to you. Was it just the dream of a stupid child? 

Even when you weren't around, my thoughts were never far from you. I asked Commander Riker why you worked alone.

"He's a man who lives his life by his own rules," the commander said. Back then, I believed that wasn't an option for me. Best and brightest, I never even considered not going into Starfleet. Successful people worked as a team. You were the one who first made me think about going my own way, about finding my own destiny instead of living up to what everyone else wanted. I wasn't ready to admit that yet, but you put it in my head. Maybe not even my head. Maybe my heart.

Thank you for that.

I'm out here now, on my own journey. I once told you that I couldn't be like you. That I couldn't leave my friends and I people I loved just to strike out on my own path. But it turns out that's exactly what I did. I've become a lot more like you than like Commander Riker or Captain Picard or my mom or even my dad. And yeah sometimes it is lonely. But it's less lonely than not knowing myself.

I don't know if you knew yourself. But I know you taught me something about it.

I'm attending your funeral tomorrow. All those bad deals finally caught up with you. I'm different now. I have the power, I could've changed the outcome of that showdown. But it was your life and for good or bad you lived by your own choices. I don't think you'd want me to come rescue you. God, what a fantasy for me though. To show you how big and powerful I am now, to make you worship me the way I worshipped you. But that's not what I want. I wouldn't want someone who adored me. I'll admit it. I wanted you to love me. But I'd want that on equal terms.

And maybe that's why you backed off from me. Because you were a god to me. An idol. A role model. Maybe we had that one moment because you were attracted to me, and then you put your shields up because you didn't want me getting hurt. Because you wanted me to live my own life, not follow you around like I did. Like I would've forever if you had given me one more small hint you wanted me too. Then I'd have been living your life instead of my own. And that's not what you wanted for me.

I'd like to think that. That you loved me just as quickly as I loved you and chose loneliness over hero worship. Maybe so, maybe not. Maybe I was just some dumb kid who read way too much into a smile and a handshake. But either way, no matter what you intended, you made me think harder about who I wanted to be.

Thank you, Captain Okana.


End file.
